From a Child's Eyes
by Sugarpony
Summary: A short introspective of Pearl's set on her twentieth birthday. [The Scarlet Letter]
1. Raised by Solitude

AN: I wrote this for a school assignment, but I wanted to see what y'all think. Read and Review!

Disclaimer: Sugarpony neither owns nor wishes to own The Scarlet Letter.

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Chapter One

Raised by Isolation

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In order for this story to be fully comprehended, one must first be informed of the circumstances of my birth. It was in the jail of the stately town of Boston twenty years prior today in which I was borne.

My mother, Hester Prynne, had been incarcerated forthe crime of adultery (of which I was the result) with the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, who at the time had remained nameless. My early days were spent in the darkness of that prison, tucked away from the rest of the civilized world. When I was first introduced to the light, it was merely to be displayed with my  
mother for a few hours before being tossed back into the jail cell.

We were released from our confines while I was still a babe, and afterwards we lived in a cottage by the sea, in seclusion from the other Puritans yet near enough for mother to travel to town for work and anything we would need. I was raised for several years here, and it therefore is a part of my story. It was a childhood of solitude, and so I quickly learned many different ways to amuse myself. I would make the best of whatever I had, turning weeds and grasses and herbs into playthings. I imagined the dusky plants by our abode to be the Puritans and ripped them out, knowing they were the ones who had put us here. I sometimes threw burrs at Mother, but she never scolded me for it. She simply stood there, silently staring at me as  
if I was some horrible apparition. Always.

Every so often, Mother would need to go into town, and so together we would make the journey. When we arrived, we would only be greeted by whispers. The so-called Puritans neither forgave nor forgot, as one might imagine; instead, they held grudges like the Devil himself. Parent and child alike scorned us. The adults were wary of us, and so their children would naturally be as well. The little Puritans ran from us in little groups, speaking in hushed voices of what our "disease" could be. They were little urchins, learning from the hypocritical settlers. The ministers in church despised us, also. When Mother would take me to the church service with her, I did not sit impatiently and wait for it to be finished. No, I listened to the sermon! I listened to the good Master Wilson with his Holy Bible preach of Mother?s sin and of her cowardly culprit! understood his meaning, yes. I understood his words of how all were to avoid being like her at all costs, lest they would share her fate of spiritual punishment. They also listened and understood, and as such they were repulsed by us. We had no place in their perfect little haven.

My childhood was lonely, but I rather preferred it to the horrible life of the other children. The were being corrupted by those by which they were surrounded. I thank whatever heavenly deity there is that I was fortunate enough to be raised by isolation.


	2. The Letter

Disclaimer: Sugarpony neither owns nor wishes to own The Scarlet Letter.

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Chapter Two

The Letter

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While Mother, poor Hester Prynne, was living in that prison, she sewed herself a scarlet letter. It was affixed to her chest with golden thread, and it remained there for the rest of eternity. It was a curse; it played with her mind, tortured her soul, and was a constant reminder of her terrible fate. I was fascinated by it as a child, it is true, and often times I made this cruel torture even worse. I did not fully comprehend the meaning of the letter at the time, but I knew that it was something evil which inflicted my mother. I knew that it was the result of something horrible which she had done, and so I investigated as well as I could. I experimented with Mother. I asked about the letter at every opportunity I could grasp, for my curiosity had to be satisfied! It had to be satisfied, for it was necessary that I knew as much as possible to survive in our little world that had been created.

One day, Mother and I were walking on the edge of the woods. She had brought us there so that she might speak to the Doctor Chillingworth, or so I presume, for she shooed me away as we drew near to him. I ran to play while they spoke, and afterwards, Mother called to me again, and we proceeding into the forest. In my adventures, I had placed a few weeds on my chest in the shape of an 'A' like Mother?s to see if she would finally tell me why she wore her own.

She did see my little costume, and she therefore asked me if I knew what her scarlet letter meant. I replied that it was the letter 'A', and she asked me if I knew why she wore her letter. I knew that she wore it for a dark reason, just as the Reverend Dimmesdale from the church held his hand over his heart, and I told her as much. Mother told me that my suspicions were correct and asked me once again if I knew why this was so. I told Mother no, I did not know why she wore her letter, and I asked her to explain. She said she wore the letter for the golden thread, but I still did not know the full and true meaning of the letter. I asked again what it meant and why the minister held his hand over his heart, but she did not tell me; instead, she bade me to be quiet else she shut me ?in the dark closet.? I knew that I would receive no more answers, and so I let the matter drop.

I do know now, however, what this letter means. Mother was impressed upon to wear the letter by the town as a punishment for her sin. The horrible scarlet letter 'A' stood for Adultery.


	3. Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale

Disclaimer: Sugarpony neither owns nor wishes to own The Scarlet Letter.

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Chapter Three

Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale

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Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, as aforementioned, was my progenitor. He was the one who committed that horrible crime with Hester Prynne and then left her to endure her punishment alone. I had known from the moment I first met him that there was something special in him.

It was the house of Governor Bellingham which Mother had taken me to that day. I did not know her true intentions; I simply assumed she needed to return the governor?s gloves which she had embroidered. We waited for a little bit before we finally were approached by him, and when we were, he brought others with him. It is true, the governor had guests that day. One was the master of the church, Wilson; another was the doctor, Chillingworth; and the final was none other than the minister Dimmesdale. Governor Bellingham spoke to Mother, and his words surprised me. He wanted to take me away from her! He wanted to take me away from my own mother and to place me with one of the Puritan creatures! Mother asked him to not do this, but he did not comply. Finally, she turned to Reverend Dimmesdale, and she begged him to speak on her behalf.

It was the first time I myself had met the man, but he stirred something in me. He did present a case for Mother, and he did convince the governor to let Mother and me alone. After he had finished and was concealing himself in the shadows-- and I still know not what compelled me to do it-- I walked to him, and I rested my cheek on his hand. Perhaps I was grateful to this man for helping Mother and me, or perhaps I had sensed the connection between us three that lingers still today. I allowed him, a stranger-- and one of the Puritans, yet!-- to kiss my brow before the spell wore off and I flew away. The man was most peculiar.

Our next encounter was in the dark of night, and it was then I learned of his secret. He was the man who sinned with my mother. He was the man who left her to wallow in shame and torture alone! That night, I asked him to bear his secret to the rest of the town, but he refused. It was then that some feeling of which I know not grew within me. From then on, I despised that man. I did not wish to acknowledge or accept him until he confessed, and yet I knew that once he did all would be forgiven. The minister did confess in the light of day, and even though he was at death's door, I did forgive him. He had finally proven himself to be a true human being when he stood on the scaffold with Mother and I that day; he bore his heart, which he so desperately kept hidden, to the rest if the world. And because of this, Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale brought forth that emotion which had been shown at the governor's house once again.

This time, it did not fade.


	4. The Black Man's Legacy

Disclaimer: Sugarpony neither owns nor wishes to own The Scarlet Letter.

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Chapter Four

The Black Man?s Legacy

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I have referred to one Doctor Chillingworth which resided in our little town of Boston. This man, unbeknownst to all but Mother and, later, the Reverend Dimmesdale, was the husband which had sent Mother here alone; he was the husband which Mother had betrayed.

Roger Chillingworth was a cold man. While I was young, I spoke of him as 'the black man.' I could feel the dark presence which presided over the man, and I knew he was a creature of evil. He was not a Puritan, no; he was the Devil's own servant. He always was near Dimmesdale, for his single purpose was to torment the man until his death. Chillingworth died less than a year after the minister. Strangely enough, he left his fortunes to none other than myself. "Why me?" I have always wondered. "I have done nothing to deserve his riches, and Mother most certainly has not, either. I am the result of Mother's terrible crime against him! Why has he chosen me to be his heiress?"

Chillingworth had been predictable my entire life. He was the Black Man, slave of the Devil. He tortured Reverend Dimmesdale until the very last of his day, whereupon Chillingworth himself passed away because he had no reason to exist. Why, then, does he now leave his inheritance to the minister's child?

Roger Chillingworth had become and enigma. I was a child of seven years, and I knew not what to do with my newly gained riches. Mother brought me here, to England, and I now live on his property. Still, I neither want nor deserve this fortune of mine. Therefore, I give all I can to Mother, who has returned to that town of Boston and resumed her torture with the Puritans.  
Perhaps Doctor Chillingworth wished to cause grief for Dimmesdale's child, or perhaps he wished to repent for his own sins against the man. Either way, he has accomplished his goal.


	5. Mother

Disclaimer: Sugarpony neither owns nor wishes to own The Scarlet Letter.

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Chapter Five

Mother

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I have left my mother, Hester Prynne, to discuss last because her story is the most complicated. Mother lived for seven years with her scarlet letter and myself, both constant reminders of her torture. She bore the weight of the punishment for not only her own sin but also the sin of the minister Arthur Dimmesdale. And throughout all of this, she still cared for me. But why?

Roger Chillingworth was a complicated man, but Mother confuses me even more than he. I was the cause of her despair. I served only to harm her even more than the Puritans with my questions and mocking of the scarlet letter. Why, then, did she care for me?

The day in the woods when I persisted Mother about the letter, we met Reverend Dimmesdale. Once again, Mother told me to run and play, and I did so. When I returned to her, however, she was changed; she had freed her hair from its confines; the sunlight which always had run away from her was shining brightly on her from; the scarlet letter was lying a distance away from her. I was afraid because this was not my mother. My mother always modestly kept her hair out of sight; my mother always frightened the sunshine away; my mother always wore the scarlet letter which was now lying on the forest floor. I was afraid, and I screamed and cried and hollered until she once again became the pitiful, tortured woman I had always known as Mother. Yet she was not angered at me. I was the one who forced her to wear the letter even though she despised it so. Why did she care fore me?

Why did Mother love me? Mother has always loved and cared for me even though I rarely ever returned her affections. Now, therefore, I wish to repent for my own sin. I wish to use this vast fortune which the Black Man bestowed upon me to love and care for Mother as she has always done for me.

Mother needs my help to overcome her sin, her scarlet letter.

I will help her.

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AN: That's the end of the story. I know it's not much, but hey, at least it's an actual update. so let me know what you think!


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